Vanished: The 350th Hunger Games- An SYOT
by RingsOfRevenge
Summary: 'Blood is a beautiful thing, isn't it? It should be embraced. Celebrated, even. But look. It's feared by everyone, all around the world. That includes you.' The Capitol and the Districts haven't been at peace for over 350 years. Any chances of THAT changing vanished when this year's Quarter Quell was announced. SYOT OPEN
1. Prologue

**It's been a while, but I'm back in fanfiction, this time with an SYOT.**

 **xMe**

Claudia Snow, President of Panem.

I stare down at the daunting stack of papers, annoyed. Emerald Wave, my advisor, has refused to sign everything - and she only gave me two reasons: A: she shouldn't be doing everything for me and B: she can't forge my signature anymore.

I can't wait for the Quell reading - I've been counting down the days until it for around 3 months. The Quarter Quells are always the most exciting - a little twist which keeps all Capitol eyes glued to the screen.

Ariel Fields, Head Gamemaker for this year, runs in, looking exhausted.

'Time's running out, Claudia. Card reading's at noon, and we can't think of any arena except a

tundra that we haven't done already.'

'Ice is overrated. Keep your eye on the ball, Fields. Out.'

She complies dutifully, and I ponder what to do, anything to procrastinate dealing with those papers, just for an hour.

An hour later...

Everything's set, the cards are in line and stacked up, and everyone's here. The live streaming is set up, too. We just have to wait for the clock to strike 12.

'Lights. Camera.' Emerald yells.

'Action!' I nod.

I snatch out, and the seventh Quell card is finally mine.

'Blood is a beautiful thing. It should be embraced. Celebrated, even. But look. It's feared by everyone around the world, including you. For this year's quell, there shall be 3 arenas.. 72 people will be reaped. Thank you.'

I then scream, at the top of my voice, to combat the awkward silence:

'CUT!'

 **Tribute Form:**

 **Name:**

 **District:**

 **Age:**

 **Appearance:**

 **P** **ersonality:**

 **Backstory:**

 **Friends / Family:**

 **Skills:**

 **Weaknesses:**

 **Open to Alliances?**

 **Open to relationships?**

 **Volunteer or Reaping?**

 **1st, 2nd or 3rd in their spot to go in?** **Okay I owe an explanation** **here.** **Three from each gender per District because there's 3 arenas..**

 **Allergies / illnesses / Disabilities :**

 **Preferred Placing:**

 **Preferred Score:**

 **Private training session, what do they do:**

 **What do they do in the Bloodbath?**

 **Any phrases / descriptions you want me to use; (Note I may edit these)**

 **Thoughts on the QUell:**

 **Enemies?**

 **Grudges?**

 **Other:**


	2. Sidelines - Chapter One

**Rewriting all chapters. Thank u, also they'll all be longer.**

 **Misilyn Zaquén, citizen of the Capitol.**

The time has come: my favourite time of year. The time when children die.

Hunger Games season.

It's also my second Quell. The first one kind of creeped me out, since I was eight, but this time I'll get a proper look.

I finish my solo shopping spree and quickly hail a taxi, passing the driver my address. He nods and slides the partition down.

I watch the scenery to pass time - each district is vaguely in sight. The trees are blooming this time of year, and the crops are mainly all in season, yet there is still nothing that holds beauty inside. I glance at my watch, curse under my breath, and press a wad of cash into the partition.

'Faster, please. I simply _can't_ miss the Quell reading!'

She looks at the cash, slowing down, accepts it and piles on the speed. I use the slipping time to guess what the Quell twist could be. My first Quell had no weapons, and I remember gazing, horrified, at the screen as the tributes beat each other to the death and threw rocks tied to sticks.

'This where you wanna be, miss?' I'm jolted out of my thoughts.

'That'll be Misilyn, not "Mis", thank you very much. And yes, just drop me off over there.' I say this so quick that the driver looks slightly bewildered, but drops me off outside my apartment. I draw out some more dollars and pass them through the window. The driver digs around for change, but I walk away first.

The apartment's interior has finally been finished, and I love it. It may be a bit overly lavish, but Rãy likes it to, so who am I to argue?

Ray, my husband, lies sprawled asleep across the sofa. I gently shake him, waking him up.

'What- Oh, hey, honey. Sorry, I know, I know, supposed to be cleaning up, but I was just so tired-'

'Rãy, that's okay. The Quell card's being read, though, so can you unload the groceries? I gotta go upstairs, real quick.'

He nods, and I dart upstairs.

 **Rãy Ambiãnsce, citizen of Capitol.**

Misilyn goes upstairs, and I go to the door, planning on getting her shopping out, but a hand seizes my shoulder. Naively assuming that it was Misilyn, I turn and open my mouth to ask her to let go, but suddenly a cold, steel blade whispers across my throat and I start choking on my blood.

The door slams shut.

 **Misilyn Zaquén**

I hear a shrill scream as I prepare to go downstairs.


	3. Tribute List

**This is just going to be a list of SYOT spots, thank you! From now on, I only accept PM tributes, sorry. Also first come first serve.**

 **Arena 1:**

 **D1: F taken, M free. (Chloe Gilbert)**

 **D2: F taken, M free. (Dixie Rivers)**

 **D3: F free, M free.**

 **D4: F free, M free.**

 **D5: F taken, M taken. (Mackynzie Daisie Bertine, Stylus (Don't know his surname yet, the form was cut off))**

 **D6: F free, M free.**

 **D7: F taken, M taken. (Ashleigh Rowan, Cedar Kentson)**

 **D8: F free, M free.**

 **D9: F taken, M free. (Sandy Briddle)**

 **D10: F free, M free.**

 **D11: F free, M free.**

 **D12: F free, M taken. (Phoenix Digger)**

 **Arena 2:**

 **I believe that none are taken except D7 Male, who is Adam Rowan.**

 **Arena 3:**

 **I believe that none are taken except D7 Male, who is Rowan Feller.**

 **Wow, D7M is popular.**


	4. Sponsor Things- Early But U Can Get Now

**This is some sponsor info! Yay?**

You all start with 1000 sponsor points. Right now I will only list ways of getting them, not actually what you can give.

Review: 10 sponsor points

Mean Review: 1 sponsor point:

Criticising but helping to improve review: 10 points

Submission (Short): 100 sponsor points

Ideas: 20 per idea for the story

Favourite Story: 500 sponsor points

Follow Story: 500 sponsor points

Favourite Me! : 1000 sponsor points

Follow Me! : 1000 sponsor points

Being correct on who is the Chosen One: 500 sponsor points

Submission (Long/Detailed) : 300 sponsor points

Just to give you an idea, a bottle of water is 50 sponsor points.

 **I hope this was useful, and by the way I will take ideas for sponsor gifts. Another thing. More ways to get sponsor points will be added soon**


	5. Hopeless and Dead

**Misilyn Zacquén**

I go downstairs and cry out with shock - Rãy's body is lifeless, pale, with a thick line of red on his neck.

My first thought is a million thoughts: Who did this? Why? How long has this been about to happen?

A thought occurs to me and I pray that the Quell reading has started late. I smash the **_on_** button on the television, see that the Quell is over and, disappointed, furiously tap on my phone to find out what the Quell is this time. Seeing a promising-looking video, I prepare to tap on it, but suddenly I feel a thud in my back-

-a rush of cold, so cold, God, it's so cold-

-warmth, it seems so hot now, am I on fire?-

-Pain, so much pain, somebody help-

-a harsh stingin-

I wake up free of pain. I don't know where I am, though.

Wispy figures move around me - I check my back. Wait, there's something sticking out of me. I reach for the thing in my back: it's a handle. I look down at the silvery thing poking out of my chest, and immediately my confusion evaporates.

There's a murderer in the Capitol. How has this person escaped the wrath of the Peacekeepers?

 _I have to get back to the Capitol._

The wisps are suddenly solid, and I have to claw my way through the crowds, but that's the problem exactly. There's only crowds. I look down. So I was stabbed, and my killer left the knife in my back. I observe the solid ghosts. Are they dead, like me? Is this colour and sense of normal function all fake? Am I one of the ghosts that is keeping everyone from getting back? The first thought that occurs to me is that I may be stuck in these crowds forever, but my dread morphs into excitement as I see Katniss Everdeen, rebel. She died so long ago.. why am I with her?

My eyes search through the ghouls. Their souls may be gone, but I can see their faces, and some of them look at each other with an earnest recognition. The grey mass suddenly departs, and I can see everyone. From previous Games, from the Capitol... some volunteered for.

If there's a criminal out there, then this place, filled with the dead, is going to be pretty full soon.

 ** _I continue, desperately, surging through the crowds, shoving people aside, trying to get to the end where I am sure I will wake up and see that this is a dream._**

 **Let me know what you think of these chapters rewritten, thank you!**

 **Note: The tribute chapters will be way longer.**

 **x Me.**


	6. Chapter 3 : Cedar Kentson (Rewritten)

**Thank you to AsAnAquarian (previously Cabin 12) for Cedar Kentson. I'll show the tribute form so you can get to know him a little bit better.**

 **I'll get on with the stuff straightaway, but first..**

 **District Seven, Male. I forgot his age and the submission has vanished, so I'll say that he's 17 because I'm pretty sure he was.**

 **Curse my bad memory!**

 **Final thing: My next chapter will be on Adam Roman.**

I sense a feeling of dread settle on me. Where am I going? Why? Why am I running to what could possibly mean my death? Why am I going to the Quell reading?

It's really quite typical that my teenage years involve one Quell year. I thank my luck and continue running, practically grinding my teeth in the hope that I'll get there in time.

Oakley and Kendall are waiting for me at the square, or at least, they should be. I wish I could have just been two years older - to have avoided this Quarter Quell.

Why did they invent the Quarter Quells anyway? Is our dying for their revenge and satisfaction not amusing enough for those Capitolites? The thought angers me, but I have to keep going.

I trip over a seriously short stump, and scrape my knee. I don't stop to curse - I can do that on the way - but instead pour some of the water from my canteen onto the stinging sensation as I run. With the square, along with the gathering crowd, in sight, I double over, wheezing, finally done.

Carter and Spruce await me to the left, waving. I barely notice them in time - the Peacekeepers are already looking for stray people. I push others aside, needing to get to the front, and ignore the offended comments.

'Hi.' Spruce greets me with an arched eyebrow, observing me. 'What happened to you?'

Exhausted, I say, with a slight choke, 'Exercise happened.'

Carter laughs, but the laugh is strained, and it dies in his throat quickly when he realises that I'm not in the mood.

Carter Feller wa-is my best friend, but every year, when May comes, tensions skyrocket, because we're always anxious about being reaped. Not because we'll go in, but because the other, or maybe even Spruce, will volunteer, and we'd be forced to watch our best friends die.

In my opinion, it's not the tributes that are hurt most, but the families, and the friends. The stress of knowing that their odds will never be in their favour is enough to make anyone that's remotely mentally challenged snap.

Oakley, Kendall and I are saving our things for trade - we'll blow it all when next May is over and I'm safe from the Hunger Games, but for now, hanging onto the edge of life with the threat of starvation below us will have to do.

It's not like I had a bad start. Carter, that lucky git, is the mayor's son, and can have all he wants. Uh, not literally. But he's a good person - he gives everyone else food, and the things to survive. Sometimes he's described as one of the pillars of District Seven.

Spruce, on the other hand, got it worse than me, and he relies on tesserae and Carter. But when he joins the lumberjacks, he'll be successful, and we all pray that we'll be able to survive.

I see Oakley and Kendall on the other side, waiting. I avert my gaze to the enormous screen that suddenly flashes on.

A small boy around eight, maybe half my age, dressed in white robes stands still on the right. He's pale as a ghost, and his blond hair makes him look completely white.

'Porcelain boy.' Spruce sniggers beside me. I quickly shoot him a glare and he shuts up, obviously realising that I want to focus.

Claudia Snow, clad in a grey pencil skirt and a white blouse, stands in the centre, looking businesslike. She nods to the left, where there is nothing but air, and shuffles a bit, to allow the boy in robes to take an envelope with the number 350 imprinted in it in red ink. It's sealed with a white rose, and he passes it to President Snow. She gently pries it open and takes a slip out.

She looks at the camera, and it looks like she's glaring at me. I shudder and look away, creeped out.

'Blood is a beautiful thing,' she begins, calling out what the slip says. 'It should be embraced. Celebrated, even. But look. It's feared by everyone, including you. For the 14th Quell,' I draw in a sharp breath, bracing myself for something like the bodies will be burnt, or the families will go in instead. 'Every time four tributes die, three more shall be dropped in.'

A gasp ripples through the eager crowd, followed by a silence broken only by the clanging of miners in the distance. Peacekeepers keep a distance but watch us all carefully, waiting for someone to make an illegal move.

I crane my neck to see if anything else exciting is going on, but no. A short hiss and crackle signals the end, and the screen flickers off.

'Carter, what does this mean?' Spruce asks. Carter was always the brains of our lot.

'Well,' Carter guesses, pressing his lips tightly together as he thinks, 'They'll need s lot more tributes.

I hear a feminine squeal from nearby.

'Cedar, you should go check on Daphne and Azzy.' Carter suggests. I shoot a scanning glance at him - is he just too afraid to approach them?

Daphne Evers and Azalea Farrock are also our friends, though recently they grew cold, and Spruce claims that they're hiding a secret. I don't question Spruce - his answers are often confusing and make me wish I'd never asked.

'Quarter Quell.' Carter takes in the word, then sees me looking. He shoves me forward playfully. 'Go on!'

'Why me?' I moaned, glaring.

'Because,' Spruce said, 'We don't want to.'

'Neither do I!'

'Life isn't fair.'

'Neither are you!'

'I know I'm life to all of you, but you need to get over your admiration fo r me and go talk to Daphne and Azalea.'

'I..' I decide to go off before Spruce can keep on talking.

Daphne Evers stands alone, with long strawberry blonde hair. Her hazel eyes look strangely harsh, and I reconsider my options.

'What do you want?' She snaps, before I can leave. I hesitate, thinking about what I should ask.

'Why're you so mad at me?'

She frowns. 'I'm not?'

'Haven't talked to any of us in ages, seem to hate us, and Spruce says that you have a secret.'

'And you'd believe 'loopy Sprucey', huh?' She retorts. I bite back an insult. And instead nod.

'Well, how about this. Azalea and I have a secret that's none of your business, so how about you go off, mind your own beeswax and have a nice life!'

I purse my lips. 'Not until you explain what happened.'

'Looks like you'll be waiting here forever then.'

I next try Azalea, who, despite usually being worse, looks remotely pleased to see me. She's from the outskirts, although it's hard to tell. Her grey eyes search me.

'Took you long enough.'

'Right back at you. What's up?'

'Nothing much...' She looks suspicious. 'What's it to you, anyways?'

'None of us have talked to either of you since Sunday. You stormed off with Daph, and-'

'Her name is Daphne.'

'Oh, wow, suddenly the past is gone. Screw this.'

'Screw you!' She yells as I walk off.

Oakley and Kendall intercept me before I can reach Carter and Spruce. Oakley sighs. 'What's wrong, son?'

Kendall and Oakley are my parents, and although gay people are looked down on in District Seven, we're usually okay. I got my looks, apparently, from Kendall, and my heart from Oakley. Kendall isn't as nice as Oakley, but not as oblivious either.

'What if I get Reaped?' I start. Kendall cuts in sharply.

'I thought we weren't going to talk about this until you were eighteen.

'I am eighteen. Minus a few weeks.'

Kendall bites his lip. 'You'll be fine. You weren't Reaped last time, you weren't Reaped before, and neither were any of your friends.

'What about Myra?'

Oakley looks surprised. 'You were friends with Carter's sister?'

'No, but-'

'Then look, you're safe. Calm down.'

'Someone once told me that there's no safety, no luck. Just because an apple falls 100 times out of 100, doesn't mean it won't fall on the 101st time.'

'That's irrelevant.' Kendall mutters under his breath. 'What chance is it that you'll be picked? 1 out of 7,000? You aren't so special, boy.'

'36 out of 7,000.' I whisper.

'No,' Oakley shakes his head. 'You didn't take tesser- oh my God, you took tesserae.'

Whipping out a bag, I nod and place it on the table.

'A lot of it, too. If I die, you'll be perfectly fine. If I don't, then here's your reward for my trouble.'

'If you get Reaped, which is unlikely, then you still might not die. You might win.' Ha. Leave it to Oakley to be the positive one.

Arching an eyebrow, I say, 'And you believe that I'll win?'

'Of course not!' Kendall answers, earning a short chide from Oakley. 'Okay, fine, _maybe._ But you won't get Reaped anyway, so shut up and go upstairs.'

My lower lip trembles. 'I won't, I won't. But what if I do? I just have so much to live for, I have a life, a future, friends, and there are people who want to die, why can't they die instead? I have my life planned out, and to me, it seems like a good one. I don't want to miss out on all that because our ancestors were stupid enough to challenge the Capitol, just because the Capitol wants to punish our ancestors, but the rebels are all _dead._ They're down below us, in Hell, already being punished, and they can't see us being punished!' I'm on a roll now. 'I have Carter, and Spruce, and I'm lucky, I don't want to die, please, no, I don't want to die, and I don't want everyone watching me die. Will they be laughing as I die? They'll be laughing. They'll be laughing and it's all because of a stupid slip and it's all because of stupid-'

Kendall shoves me forward, and Oakley escorts me upstairs. I can't think clearly, for the Reaping is in a week.

I continue my rant at Oakley, who is noticeably calmer.

'I have so much to sort out, Oakley, things I need to redeem myself for, friendships needing to be repaired.'

'Aha!' declares Oakley. 'So _that's_ the issue.'

'No...'

I try to finish, but I've been nodding off the entire day and I collapse on my bed for a little time out.

'Are they dead, yet? The Capitol couple?'

'I think so. I hope so. We need them gone. We need panic.'

'And if we're caught along the way?'

'Well, then. Tough luck.'

The silence floods the building as Peacekeepers begin their patrol. They must stay silent, or risk being caught, and sent to the Districts.

My first thought when I spring up: Where am I?

It's certainly not home. The smell is worse, there are too many people - no, this is not a familiar surrounding to me.

'He's awake!' Someone cries out.

 _Who, me?_

I hear another shout, but it's something like, 'Bullet!' Or 'Bleeding!'

My question remains unanswered, so I ask myself another: _what happened?_ I only remember burning up inside, afraid, so afraid. Frightened of being Reaped.

A thought strikes me, but before I can test my theory, Daphne runs in.

'I'm so sorry, Cedar! If I'd known that you would faint...'

A hand appears on her shoulder. Spruce. 'Cede, what happened?' He asks. Weakly, I respond, 'Dunno.'

A woman dressed in white rushes forward.

'Where am I, and why?' I demand. I expect some sort of heated response, but she speaks calmly and kindly. 'You fainted. You're in the District Infirmary. Are you alright?'

I sit bolt upright. 'I'm fine!'

She lays a cool cloth across my forehead. 'I'm Timberleigh. And if you really think you're fine, you think you're more accurate than 8 computers.

I gulp nervously. 'I guess I'm not fine.'

'No, you're okay. You should be up and ready in a few minutes. Take a look outside while you wait.'

I get up, but she pushes me down and gave me a look, so I stay.

'How-how long have I been out?'

'The Reaping's tomorrow.'

 _5 days?_ I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

'I'll be fine,' I mutter, and Timberleigh shrugs, obviously fed up with keeping me in. I go out the door on my right, replaying my recent conversations. The Reaping was actually tomorrow. My fate would be decided tomorrow. Would I die? Would I volunteer?

What if my friends are Reaped? What then?

 _16 hours later..._

I can't sleep. I haven't seen Kendall since our postponed axe-throwing. Oakley I haven't seen in a week. I let the news settle - what happened to me when I fainted, and why did it happen?

 _In the morning..._

I have to get ready. I put on my best clothes - it's a simple black suit that's too small for me (I'm 6"5) , but it'll do.

Oakley and Kendall are at the table, looking grave. Lilith, my grandmother on Kendall's side, is also nearby.

I can hear her scolding Kendall in a voice that majes me laugh. She's actually talking to my father as if he is half my age.

'You shouldn't have let the boy take the damn tesserae!' She shrieks. 'You're responsible if he does, don't come crying to me! Just your mother, all she ever did for you was raise you for eighteen years, don't need her opinion, do you? After all, you're a _big_ boy now, aren't you, sonny?'

I shift uncomfortably. I'm tired already of hearing this old hippie woman's voice saying that I'd die.

Oakley saves the day, stepping in after Lilith stops to take a breath.

'Miss..'

'That's madam! And I'm not done yet!'

'Well,' Oakley replies firmly, 'I'm afraid we'll have to cut your wonderful speech short, as we must really get going.

'Ah yes! The Reaping, where Kendall will realise his mistakes!'

As she practically dances through the door, Kendall scowls. 'Great timing.'

'Respect your elders.' Oakley grins back. It's moments like these that make me smile, but I have to go - I have to talk to Azalea and Carter.

'I need to catch up with my friends, see ya later, guys!'

I leave them with Lilith, who was now screaming about discipline lacking in the world now.

I catch Azalea with Daphne just as they reach the square.

'Hi,' I pant, 'Good luck.' I wait for an apology from Azalea.

'Back off!' She says, making it obvious that I'm not going to get one. Daphne elbows her as they walk off together into the 17, Female section.

The people who take my blood seem especially annoyed today; they were snapping orders angrily and jabbing the syringe in really hard. As it turned out, it really hurt.

I join someone else in the 17, Male section. Spruce and Carter are in the 16, Male area, so I can't talk to them.

Vivian Vivacity (yes, she chose that name herself), District Seven's "excellent escort!" stands behind a podium on a raised platform.

She gives the classic speech, about the Dark Days, the origin of the Hunger Games, then begins.

'And,' she calls out to the terrified crowd, 'May the odds be _ever_ in your favour!'

She stepped to the boys' Reaping Ball first, which surprised me a lot.

She dug around, as if she was looking for a certain slip. She then found it. 'The lucky man is... Carter Feller!'

I feel blood drain from my face, and I turn to Carter. He's frozen on the spot, and Spruce's soothing is small comfort.

Suddenly I'm doing what will be my downfall, what will kill me, but I can't help it.

'I volunteer!'

'I volunteer!'

I turn to where the other voice came from - it's Spruce. I run up, and I'm quicker than Spruce.

'I, Cedar Kentson, volunteer.'

Carter and Spruce are shaking their heads, Daphne and Azzy are crying, but it's not over yet.

'How exciting!' Vivian squeals. 'Next for the boys!'

This time she picked the first slip she touched. 'Soren Rowan! Oh, what I would give to be in your spot!'

A tall boy mumbles something, I assume Soren, but more is to come.

'I volunteer!'

I'm sick of hearing those words already. A similar looking teenager whom I've never seen before runs up to the stage.

'Adam, no!' Soren yells angrily, but he can't take it back once he's volunteered - and neither can I now that I've done it.

'Adam Rowan.' the boy, Adam, says. He gives me a curt nod and looks expectantly at Vivian.

I don't remember anything else after that, it all seemed like a nightmare come true.


	7. Adam Rowan: Second Tribute Chapter

I am back in business! For around a few days only, but back nonetheless. Thank you coolerthancool99 for Ashleigh and Adam Rowan! I'll do Ashleigh right after this.

I swing the axe towards the tree again. The tree seems determined not to be reduced to a plain old stump, because Soren's tree came down hours ago, and even little Ashleigh is further than me. Kicking the tree, I grind my teeth in frustration and storm off.

My father holds me off with an arm, blocking my exit, I try ducking and going around, but he shoves me back.

'I don't want the family name disgraced when you start cutting and you're a failure. For God's sake, Adam, try harder!'

I shoot a seething glare at him. 'I am! And what if I don't make it to eighteen like Soren did?'

My dad frowns. 'What do you mean don't make- Oh no. No. You didn't.'

'Didn't what?'

'Take tesserae. Adam, I told you. We're fine, but we won't be if a family member gets bloody killed off. And imagine Ashleigh having to watch you die.'

'I didn't take tesserae, but you know me. The unlucky one of the family. I might as well take tesserae, my chances will be the same.'

'Even if you get picked for the Games, Adam Rowan, you need a skill! Axes! Use your heritage to your advantage! If you'd like, I can teach you combat instead until the Reaping.'

A new voice joins our conversation. 'Daddy, my tree is done.' It's Ashleigh.

Adopting a kinder tone, my dad smiles with pride. 'Okay. Now can you show Adam? Adam would like to learn how to do it as good as you can!' He speaks so much slower and quieter with my younger sister.

'Sure I do.' I mutter under my breath.

'What was that, young man?'

'Nothing.'

'And,' Ashleigh adds,'No need to talk to me like I'm three.' My father, like the biased man he is, pretends not to hear.

My father pushes me back to my tree. I whine, complain and protest, but luck is not on my side.

We all adore Ashleigh, but she's a classic brat, and I envy all the attention she receives, just because she's younger. She even gets similar privileges, and she's been told some dumb lie about the Games that nobody really believes.

She was spoilt. We're struggling, so I hate how she got spoilt, but she's practically District fame. Those people left Soren, my father, my mother and I to starve as Ashleigh got all the attention.

My mother died soon after Ashleigh was born - one less worker to contribute, yet one less mouth to feed.

Soren takes tesserae every year, despite our begging him not to. He gets punished by our father every time, same as I would, but he doesn't care. It's him that held up the family after a few years of Mother being gone, Ashleigh who kept on trying to tear what he had built down.

I do believe that our father has our best interests at heart, but he also thinks that what we want is never what we need.

I often feel as though he's biased against me. He thanks Soren, praises him, treats Ashleigh like a princess, as that's what she's used to, and then me... The thing that ruined his family. The black sheep - the ugly duckling.

I sometimes wish that we lived in the Capitol. We'd be protected from criminals, rather than being treated like them; food pops up at the push of a button; none of the constant threats that loom over the Districts.

Soren tells me that I'm silly, and that I should be grateful, but every time I feel the need to ask him what I should be grateful for. I did it once, but I received no answer.

Soren's the one person I am closest to - I can confide in him, get help from him, ask for explanations.. and his responses are always the right ones.

He could win the Hunger Games easily, I reckon. He trained hard to be a lumberjack, and if he never is one, he will still use his skills - in the Games.

I know he'd volunteer for me if I was Reaped, because I asked him the question, but I wish he wouldn't. I'm not capable

of keeping the family alive like he is. And I don't think I could bear it if he died.

I spend most of my days by a quiet lake on the border of District Seven. You can see the Capitol from there, and sometimes I ponder whether or not it would have much of an impact if I drowned.

Pressing the heels of my hands into my eyelids, I breathe in and out slowly. The smell of burning wood barely reaches me here, where the Capitol looks just one minute's walk away - but I know it's so much further.

Someone shakes my shoulder. I look up, and I see who it is.

'Hi.' Beech says. I scowl, knowing that the District troublemaker can't mean well.

'Hello.' I respond shortly. 'Could you let go.' It's not a question.

Beech Splinters looks remotely startled, mildly annoyed, but lets go immediately.

'What?' I snap.

'What do you mean, what?'

'Why are you here?'

'If you can be here, can't I?'

'You've never been here before - I want peace, okay?'

'I want never gets.' He glares. 'Way to be cold. And as for never being here before, why not start?'

'I'm done talking to you, if you're here for something then do it, if you're not then go.'

'I'm here to talk.'

A long silence. I observe him - classic brown eyes, dark hair, but his mischievous smile prevents me from trusting him. He's tall and slim, arching an eyebrow with his arms folded.

'Fine. Have it your way. Don't respond, but you'll either go or listen. You'll still hear me if you ignore me.'

I look up from our reflections. 'What's all this about? You've never approached me before, why now?'

'You're smarter than that.'

'It's because you want something, isn't it?'

Grinning, his eyes twinkle. 'It's about Soren.'

'You don't know anything about my brother.'

'No, but my younger brother does.'

'Younger?'

'Adam, I'm 21.'

'Aha. You're talking about Mr. Grover Splinters. What happened?'

'Now you're interested. Grover's bugged. I want to play a trick on Soren, but I need you for it.'

'No thanks.' I reply.

'Back off, Splinters.' A new voice enters the conversation. 'This is between me, Soren and Grover. Not you or Adam, so stop getting involved.'

It's a girl - Ellen Barrs. I don't get how she's involved at all in this.

Soren comes over too. 'What are you doing with Beech?'

'Don't ask me.' I answer. 'I need to get out of this place - is the Quell over yet?'

'The reading, yeah. Which you weren't at!'

'I'm sorry, okay!'

His tone softens. 'Don't be. It's just that the Peacekeepers might hold a grudge against you for that, and also I thought you might want to know.'

Shaking my head, I bite my lip nervously. 'I do want to know, but not there. I don't want to be another pawn on the chessboard.'

'You think...' He hesitates, seeing the small crowd of Ellen and Beech. 'Can you go?'

They oblige dutifully. Soren turns to me again. 'You think any of us do? Look, Adam, we've spoken before about this. It's not our fight. The Games are nearly over for us, so how about we just play along until we're safe. 'Kay?'

I nod, slightly intimidated, mainly disappointed. I hate this continuous unhappiness that's everywhere. I'm sick of it, and I know that it's been following in everyone's wake since the Dark Days, 350 years ago, but you'd think they'd stop at over 5,000 dead children.

Turns out we were wrong.

Soren chews his lower lip. 'Adam. What's wrong?'

'What if we get Reaped? Or Ashleigh? All of us?'

'That reminds me,' he says, changing the subject,'The Quell. To commemorate blood-'

Frowning, I reply, 'Blood?'

'Yeah. But to celebrate it, three tributes, randomly picked, will be dropped into the arena every time four die.'

'What if I'm Reaped?'

'We could both be Reaped, and Ashleigh, and Beech, and Ellen. Three per gender per District. I'd protect you, buddy.'

I scowl. 'Not helping. What if you and Ashleigh are Reaped?'

'Maybe someone would volunteer, but I have a bigger shot at winning. And as for Ashleigh, I'd protect her.'

'If it's just her?'

He glares. 'Cut the negativity, okay? I'll volunteer for you if you get Reaped.'

'No!' I protest. 'Someone else might! And imagine if when you're gone, we die of starvation because you aren't there.'

'I'm finished with this conversation. You can either go home, have nightmares about the Games and not get enough rest the next few weeks...'

'Or...?'

'Or go outside, enjoy your life while you still have it, in case it's cut short.'

'That sounds a lot like you triggering option one.'

Winking, Soren grins. 'So what if it is? Hey, how about you come climb trees with us, how does that sound?'

'The Peacekeepers will go mental, Vivian Vivacity will give me dirty looks, and.. who is us?'

'Grover, Ellen.'

'And if Beech tags along?'

'Screw him.'

I smile slightly and nod, all my woes forgotten for one short, sweet, moment. And then it's gone.

I'm nearly at the forest when my wrist is gripped. Soren frowns at something behind me. 'Leave him alone.'

A small silhouette peeks out. Ashleigh. My brother struggles to hide his dismay at her appearance, and so do I.

'Can I come with you?' She asks, flipping her blonde hair. I push her away gently and move on - Soren tells her something and she rolls her eyes, evidently frustrated, but for once she seems determined, and continues to ask random questions.

Finally, I can't take it. 'Come to spy on us again, brat? For dear old Father?' The insult brings tears to her eyes, but they're fake. 'I already told you what I want.' She responds, but I pull a face.

'Soren, can I come?' She asks.

Soren glares. 'Am I your second option? Should have asked me first, Ashleigh, but Adam said no. Please could you go and leave us alone?'

Ashleigh folds her arms. 'I don't want to! Pleaaaaaase?' She whines loudly. Usually this trick works, but Soren pushes her away, all patience gone. 'Go. Now.'

My sister doesn't budge. 'What if I'm Reaped? And what are you doing, anyway?'

'You won't..' Soren begins, but I interrupt.

'You might, and if you are, tough luck. Don't expect anyone to volunteer for you, because you're just a little brat who took everything away from us and thinks she's a princess. None of your business what we're doing, either, because you can't come. Get out now.' I snap. She mutters something like: 'They're rust zealous,' And storms off to look for pity.

Soren turns to me and frowns. 'That was unnecessary. You'll need to be friendly in the Games, Adam, if you want allies.'

'I won't get Reaped. And as for your advice, I agree. I should totally be hugging the people who want to kill me, and probably will. I don't want allies from other Districts, okay? I'll go solo unless someone comes to me.'

Soren shrugs and leads me into the Winter forest. Luckily, it's summer, so the Winter area is nicely quiet. 'Wait...' I pause. 'Did Ashleigh say that we were 'just jealous' ?'

A flash of pride can be seen in Soren's eyes for some reason, and he nods, scaling up a six metre tree. I follow suit, climbing up at lightning speed. Soren's too heavy for some of the branches, but I am lighter and at the moment I can leap from tree to tree with ease.

Soren runs along beside me, laughing. 'I can't catch up!' he says, with that proud air resurfacing. Beaming, I try to go higher, but Soren's smile melts, and he warns me not to go too high or I'll fall. I wave him off lightly, enjoying the relative freedom here.

I'm now around twelve metres high in the air, one leg either side of a branch. It should hold. Hopefully..

The branch trembles a little, and Soren yells out something, but I'm too far away to listen. Panic runs through me, and I tear down the branch, hoping that I can get to the trunk before my weight becomes too much of a burden.

It's actually bending now, and I know from classes that if I fall off right now, there are hundreds of negative possibilities: breaking a leg, an arm, my neck, maybe even entering a coma, and I shake with fear as the branch snaps-

-God, I wish I was a cat. 'Cats always land on their feet' And I'm falling, not even screaming, just falling silently. Soren screams something, but the shrill sound is muffled and I feel a huge impact as I hit the ground.

I should explain. The Sunday of my fall was 3 days ago. I'm glad that I got to miss school, as it's always some sort of frustration and unease. Today, it's Wednesday, and my leg has far from healed, despite the Capitol workers insisting that I'm fine now.

Broken bones get Capitol treatment. Instead of them coming here, I got shipped off in a claustrophobic little box to the Capitol, and although the treatment and food was nice while it lasted, two days later I was back with severe bruises.

Beech was the first non-family to express any concern for the matter, which left me slightly bewildered. Grover came shortly after, though to see Soren instead of me.

Ashleigh was far from help - wincing at my right leg and continuously saying, 'Ew,' which eventually led me to demanding that she just shut up and leave me alone.

The Capitol visit made me angry - all this wealth, and money, and resources, and not one Capitolite can spare a penny until we're on the brink of death in the Games and they'd love to sponsor us.

The Reaping is tomorrow, and now I'm back in the District Hospital. I am placed next to a boy with Nurse Caroline caring for him, and from my eavesdropping I can deduce that he's fainted. I wonder why.

When Nurse Caroline is gone, I peer round the strips of fabric and whisper to the boy, 'Hi.' but he's obviously either unconscious or uninterested. I observe him seriously closely, and see his coat - a label on the neck says, 'Cedar Kentson.'

The boy, Cedar, stirs, and I quickly hide behind the 'curtains' once more and stay in my bed, looking up at the ceiling, until Soren, Ashleigh and my father come to pick me up.

I limp and wince on the walk back home, but my father says sharply, 'It's just a few cuts 'n' bruises, boy, toughen up. You'll be hopeless in the Games.'

'Daddy,' Ashleigh frowns, 'I'm tired. Also, what are the Games?'

'Sweetheart, the Games are a fun thing that lets you be on television!' he grins. Soren and I exchange an exasperated look: F u n.

'Well then, duh, Adam's obviously gonna be rubbish!' she snickers. I step forward, but Soren speaks in my defence. 'You don't know that, Ashleigh. Dad, it's going to hurt. He broke his leg.'

'I wouldn't mind it if the Capitol fixes injuries before the Games, but he'll be at a disadvantage.'

Ashleigh pleads, 'Can I play the Games? Are they fun? Daddyyyyy, talk to me!'

He casts a cold, silencing look at her and she shuts up.

Soren glances up at the sky, and I follow suit. The sun is nearly at the top - time for the Reaping in 15 minutes.

'We need to go.' I declare, and a skipping Ashleigh leads the way to the square.

Vivian Vivacity is not on the stage, and instead it's a strange-looking Capitolite who looks confused.

'C'est la Hunger Games! C'est passionnant! C'est-'

He's cut off by Vivian, who has now appeared and looks embarrassed, and we sort ourselves into our age gender groups.

The Reaping rolls into shape as if it's a daily routine. Our District escort surprises us all by starting with the male tribute, which makes me anxious, although for a moment I've forgotten something important that I can't put my finger on that I think is worse.

Vivian plays with the paper slips for a while, stalling, and I begin to become impatient. She finally grasps one tightly, as though it's her lifeline, and yanks it out. She reads it in a loud, clear, threatening voice.

'Carter Feller!'

I know him. Vaguely - he's the mayor's son, so obviously we've exchanged a few words. He visited Cedar Kentson (the boy next to me in the hospital) while he was ill. I think his seventeenth birthday passed recently, and he might stand a chance-

'I volunteer!'

Blinking, I make my way to the front to see who it is - turns out, it's Cedar. But I hear another voice too. Cedar gets there first and I consider his odds. He doesn't look like much...

I wait for her to go to the girls' Reaping Ball, but it dawns on me - Soren said something about six per District...

She reaches in again, and I curse. The worst may still be yet to come.

Vivian snatches a paper slip, unfolds it, and squeaks a name. One I recognise.

It's not me.

It's Soren. Kind, caring Soren who we all thought was safe. We're all doomed now, us Rowans. We won't last a day without him.

'I..' I begin to croak something unintelligible. Straightening up, my lips move again, against my will, forming the words: 'I volunteer.'

The next and final one. I have time to grieve and rebuke myself after this one.

'Adam Rowan!'

I frown. It's never happened before - a volunteer being Reaped. Murmurs of confusion fill the air, and our escort takes a look at the rule book.

Before things get out of hand, there's another voice. It's gruff, angry, and before anyone can declare what to do, someone's volunteered.

'I am Rowan Feller,' he states, 'And I volunteer.'

Next is the girls. I feel drowsy and ill: I just ended my life voluntarily. It's inevitable when there are all these stocky people around who look smarter and stronger than me.

This time, Vivian reaches right into the bottom of the bowl and takes a slip that could be someone's death warrant.

'Ashleigh Rowan.'

I pale and glance at Ashleigh, then Soren. Ashleigh is excited, because she doesn't understand what the Games are, and

I know I'll have to tell her the truth soon.

All three Rowan children.. looks like the odds weren't in our favour today.


	8. An explanation!

**This is just an explanation of this Quell, since it's confusing a few people...**

 **Three arenas. The main one is for the first 24 to be Reaped, the left one is for the second 24 to be Reaped and the last 24 go into the right arena.**

 **Yes? Have I lost you yet?**

 **So there will be three fights going on.**

 **I had a more elaborate plan, but I scrapped it since it would be too hard.**

 **The winners of these three fights will be put into the main arena.**

 **They'll face infinite tests, and the last to die will win. The tests each have a solution.**

 **Have I lost you yet? I'll do a plan then.**

 **Note: if I do something like 4F2, it's the second District Four female. Just for this plan.**

 **Arena 1: normal Hunger Games, 10M1 wins.**

 **Arena 2: normal Hunger Games, 2F2 wins.**

 **Arena 3: normal Hunger Games, 1F3 wins.**

 _Arena 1 is laid with the challenges_

 **2F2 dies in first challenge / test, which is mutts. (Solution: Play dead)**

 **10M1 dies in fourth challenge, which is a room with a million tracker jackers in. (Solution: Click one of the 2 buttons, the right one releases gas that kills tracker jackers, the left one, spawns more tracker jackers.)**

 **This means that 1F3 wins the 350th Hunger Games!**

**So, I have two choices to do the chapters.**

 **One arena, complete it, then do the next.**

 **Other option: Arena 1 chapter, Arena 2 chapter, Arena 3 chapter.**

 **I'll accept any suggestions for which one I should do - right now I'm leaning towards Option II.**

 **Any issues or questions, PM me or, if necessary, review.**


End file.
